Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Iceland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
Niagra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Urselle,
Schoolly D,
L. Decosne,
Joe Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smoke,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yazoo,
In Retrospect,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
Essential Logic,
David McCallum,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ituana,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warren Ellis,
Howard Jones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ronnie Foster,
Easy Going,
Man Eating Sloth,
La Düsseldorf,
Arcadia,
Peter and Kerry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Selecter,
Chris & Cosey,
Barbara Tucker,
Aaron Thompson,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Duran Duran,
Albert Ayler,
Aswad,
Minor Threat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dead C,
Camouflage,
the Bar-Kays,
Depeche Mode,
Black Pus,
Jacob Miller,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.